


Seeing Fuchsia

by xCake



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xCake/pseuds/xCake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While you've always been a hopeless romantic, the day the particle accelerator exploded you found yourself feeling more “hopeless” and less “romantic” than ever before. That day was the worst, and simultaneously the best, day of your life.</p><p>[ eventual Barry Allen x Reader ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Seeing Fuchsia  
** _Chapter One_

__

The day the particle accelerator exploded was the worst, and simultaneously the best, day of your life. It was a chilly, silent night for the city, aside from the huge crowd abuzz at S.T.A.R. Labs. From what you could see on TV, there was a party, with the city’s most influential in attendance along with a large handful of reporters. “It’ll change the world,” was what the newscasters were saying. The dangers were understated, and the benefits were emphasized in the media. Once Dr. Wells’ particle accelerator was activated, it would change so many lives for the better.  
   
Or so they thought.  
   
You had a penchant for science, but mostly of the “soft” variety. Your degree was in Psychology, and you rather liked learning the nuances of why people behaved how they did on an individual level. Your dissertation was on emotion: how it worked, what chemicals were involved, and how those chemicals interacted in the brain. Out of all the emotions you had researched, the one you most enjoyed learning about was love.  
   
In fact, it always made you curious. Ever since you were a little girl, you’d been a proponent of the emotion, always cheering for those Disney princesses so in love that they’d give up everything. As you grew older, you became more and more of a hopeless romantic, so much that you eventually came to manage one of the florists in the city. You loved what flowers could do for relationships: anniversary presents, a simple “I’m sorry,” or perhaps the first “I love you” of many. The scent of so many flowers at once made you feel like you were surrounded by all the hopes and wishes of Central City’s citizens.  
   
That night, however, you were feeling more “hopeless” and less “romantic” than ever before. At 25, you figured you’d be happily married by now. That certainly wasn’t the case, for you were still here, still single and alone, still waiting for your Prince Charming to one day sweep you off your feet. It wasn’t for lack of trying, either. You’d had a number of boyfriends, but they never failed to disappoint. None of them were right for you. Maybe no one was.  
   
While you cleaned up shop, you kept the TV tuned to one of the major news channels in order to watch the particle accelerator’s activation. While you were interested in the event, there wasn’t much enthusiasm in your step as you swept the floor, cleaning up the day’s floral mess. Maybe you were like one of those flowers, damaged and discarded on the floor. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t find someone, because there was something inherently wrong with you.  
   
Well, even if that were the case, you still believed in love. You just didn’t believe in yourself.  
   
A sudden explosion on TV caught your attention and you jumped, looking over at it to see S.T.A.R. Labs going up in flames. No, that couldn't be right; there were hardly any risks, or at least nothing of concern - right? That’s what the media led the general populous to believe, anyway. You included.  
   
Soon after, the channel lost the signal at S.T.A.R. Labs, and you stared at it in shock. What was happening? Looking out the window, you could see a cloud of smoke in the distance, towering over the city and into the sky. Then you saw a wave of something – heat, distorting everything around it, something possibly nuclear – coming your way. Immediately, you threw the broom aside and ran to the back room, looking desperately for somewhere to hide. The refrigerator which held the majority of your stock was surrounded by metal on all sides, and it had no windows. You hoped it would be enough.  
   
With no time to think, you quickly ran inside and then slammed the door behind you. It was cold, but there was nowhere else to go. You were trapped here, and you couldn’t even be sure if you would make it out alive.  
   
Within seconds, you could hear the creaking of nearby buildings and the shattering of glass. Then, almost instantly, you could feel a sort of burning heat overtake your body. It knocked the wind out of you, making you gasp and writhe in pain. You couldn’t help it when you kicked over the buckets of flowers, nor when you gripped the metal shelving so tightly that your knuckles turned white.   
   
As your consciousness began to fade, the chill in the air and the sweet scent of flowers lingered until you could sense nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Seeing Fuchsia**  
_Chapter Two_

That explosion claimed a lot of lives, as you later found out. You were one of the lucky ones, having suffered no injuries whatsoever. Because you had lost consciousness, you were kept in the hospital overnight for observation, but your doctors could find nothing wrong so you were able to leave the next day.

You took the train home from the hospital, your body aching terribly. Even though you were deemed to be in perfect health, you had been through an ordeal and your body knew it. That burning heat was not something you would soon forget; the pain was unbearable, like nothing you had ever felt before. You hoped you would never have to feel anything like that ever again.

As the train gently rocked you back and forth, you decided to check your phone. There were a bunch of missed calls from your parents, whom you’d already called back, and texts from your friends, whom you hadn’t yet talked to. Now was as good a time as any to let them know you were okay, for you had a good ten minutes left on your commute.

Suddenly, you got the eerie feeling that you were being watched, so you glanced up from your phone to see that every other occupant in the train compartment was staring at you. Reflexively, your fingers tightened around your phone and your heart began to race. What were they doing? Why were they staring at you?

As you stared back at them, one by one they began to smile when your eyes met theirs. While the situation itself was creepy beyond belief, you didn’t sense any malice from these people. On the contrary, they seemed genuinely happy to see you, despite the fact that you had no idea who they were. Their smiles were warm and welcoming, an odd contrast to the unsettled feeling in the pit of your stomach.

For the next ten minutes, you tried your best to ignore them. This proved extremely difficult to do, considering your heart was pounding a distracting rhythm against your ribcage. The text messages you sent your friends were short and to the point, quite unlike your usual demeanor – you just couldn’t concentrate on your responses while you were sitting in a train car full of people silently staring at you. It was unnerving.

Finally, your stop arrived and you got off the train as fast as you could. Just to be safe, you went through great lengths to ensure you weren’t being followed. You watched the train door to make sure no one got off after you, and then you circled around the block before you headed to your apartment. Once you got inside, you immediately shut and locked the door behind you.

That was weird. Were you hallucinating? You wouldn’t be surprised if you were, considering what you had gone through yesterday. You knew from your research that hallucinations could instill just as much fear as real, tangible things, so it made sense that you felt afraid. Beads of cold sweat slowly dripped down your forehead, and you quickly wiped them away. Somehow, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to get much sleep tonight.

* * *

 Your shop was mostly intact, save for some small damages here and there: windows shattered, light fixtures burnt to a crisp, electricity running haywire. Even the sign outside was in dire need of repair, and you desperately needed to reorder some of your stock. The flowers had withered in your absence.

Still, you managed to get the shop up and running again within a week. Yours wasn’t the only business that needed repairs. In fact, your whole block did, but you were able to call in some favors. The owners of a couple construction companies in the area owed you for rekindling their marriages with your floral expertise.

The day you reopened your shop, you were flooded with orders. Many of them came on the phone, but some were in person, too. Funeral flowers. Casket sprays. Grave blankets. Even though your profit margins suffered in doing so, you donated many of these things to those families affected by the particle accelerator blast. It was the least you could do.

While your flowers usually inspired joy, for the next few weeks you felt as though they did anything but. Central City was in mourning.


End file.
